


Just Another Day In Hell

by moroiulmeu



Category: Another Day In Paradise (1997/1998), Supernatural
Genre: M/M, language warning but I wanted to keep it authentic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25734322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moroiulmeu/pseuds/moroiulmeu
Summary: Bobby is a young, green hunter having just entered into the business when he finds himself alone on the hunt, staking out a nest of vampires by himself. Unsure of what to do he's not the least bit relieved when help shows up in the form of a man he thought long dead. (If it doesn't suddenly change direction then this will be Bobby's story as to how he became the best.)
Relationships: Famine/Death eventually, War/Pestilence
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to make a joke at the end of Another Day In Paradise where it shows Bobbie running off into the field, about how he changed his name, got clean, met a woman, she got possessed by a demon, and then the rest was history... But it seemed like a great story plot...
> 
> My kingdom for proper formatting...

To say Bobby Singer was green around the edges was inaccurate, but not wholey so. He had lived, thus far, a somewhat rough life, never sharing some of the more wild details of it with others, from trouble at home, to running away, a start in a life of crime, getting clean, and then, much more recently, having to end the life of his demon possessed wife.  
But Bobby was fresh in the world beyond the normal, doing his dead level best to learn all he could about it and the creatures and beings he never dared to dream of being real, many of which he had never heard of before. And now as he stood outside in the alleyway staking out what he had been tipped off to believe was the entrance to a vampire nest he wondered if he wasn't in over his head.  
How many were there? Bobby didn't know, he had seen at least ten of them come and go in the last two hours, his hands were cold, his stomach gnawing at him unpleasantly as he sat hiding, hoping his scent was masked enough to spare his life.  
Alone. He had come alone. Why had he done that? He cursed his own bravado and ran through his sparse mental list of contacts once again, coming up empty handed. He would have to be clever.  
Was there anything in his past few cases, his research, or that Mel had taught him that would be useful? Anxiously he was starting to think the only way out was to nuke the place.   
A feeling of dread seized him as he watched the streetlight flicker. Darkness was the last thing he needed.  
"You know son... Maybe you 'ought to pick your battles a bit wiser..."  
Bobby virtually leaped out of his skin, looking around for the source of the voice, a voice he had heard before, though not for ages. His heart lept from his chest to his throat. The tone, for now, was soft, barely a whisper, hanging on his ears like the hiss of the wind, yet every syllable seemed to cut through the night.  
"That's impossible..." he whispered to himself, wondering if now, in addition to all his ills, he was either going mental or being haunted.  
The soft chuckle ate through Bobby like frostbite.  
"You know, seems to me I warned ya about this kinda behaviour years ago... What's the matter with you, son? I told you to always know what you're dealing with... So far you've done a piss poor job. I'm gonna suggest you go on home now and leave this to someone else."  
Bobby scowled, an old hotheaded irritation welling upside of him.  
"I ain't doin' no such thing, you hear? For a ghost you're sure a cheeky son of a bitch."  
More laughter.  
"A ghost? Is that what you think I am?"  
Bobby leaned back against the wall reflexively as a figure with all the air of a spectre slipped from the shadows. His breath caught, tying a knot exactly below his smart tongue.  
To say the Reverend James Cook had never haunted Bobby's dreams would be a downright lie. The man was spooky, and as far as Bobby knew, dead, having taken a shot to the head from a sniper's rifle, at least, that had been according to Ben. To Bobby's horror, despite decades passing, the man had not aged at all, instead, he rather looked younger than Bobby recalled, his red eyes glinting eerily with amusement in the dim lighting as he watched Bobby like the entire thing was a practical joke.  
"What in the hell...? Ben said you were shot!"  
The Reverend made a face and shrugged, holding out his hands as if it couldn't be helped.  
"A grevious error in my own judgement... I'm not perfect..."  
"If you're not a ghost, then what the hell are you? Are you one of them?"  
"One of... What, a vampire?"  
"You know?"  
James rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
"You're not that thick, Bobby."  
"A demon then?"  
The Reverend scowled.  
"I am somethin' beyond your current understandin'... But I'm also not doin' anythin' of any great importance so I reckon, if you like, I can save your ass yet again... I would assume, given the situation and your outburst, you've become a hunter?"  
Bobby nodded.  
"And what does the young miss Rosie think of that?"  
"Rosie is dead."  
James' expression fell, looking genuinely distressed.  
"I'm sorry to hear that... May the Lord bless and keep her..."  
"Look man, what are you doin' here?"  
The Reverend tilted his head back and forth, as if trying to decide.  
"Hunting," he replied, "We do this round together, deal?"  
"Fine. Have it your way."  
"I generally get my way."  
Bobby shifted as the Reverend sat down beside him, idly watching the door like one forced to watching a boring program.  
"Hell of a life son... I would ask if you considered takin' it easy, but once you're in you don't get out."  
"So I've noticed."  
"So, first rule of thumb... Never stake out an entire nest of vamps by yourself, that'll getcha killed."  
"Then what the hell were you doin'?" Bobby demanded.  
"I said it would get you killed, not me. This ain't amatuer hour, Bobby, this is serious shit."  
"I know that!"  
"Then what the hell are you doin'?" James replied pointedly.  
"Somebody's gotta do somethin'!"  
The Reverend dropped his head against the wall in exasperation.  
"And you think if you waltzed in there guns blazin' you'd live to make a difference?"  
"Well, no, but that ain't what I was goin' to do."  
"Well, then, what was your plan, Bobby?"  
"I ain't thought of it yet."  
"Of course you haven't. Look, second rule, always have at least three plans because shit happens."  
Bobby nodded dully in agreement, eyeing the Reverend gloomily and reflecting that the man seemed far less crazy than when they had last met.  
"Do you even know how to kill a vamp?" James asked, pausing his speech with a frown.  
He shrugged his shoulders, "Stake through the heart I guess."  
The Reverend nodded.  
"And cut off their head. Dousing the body in holy water and settin' it on fire don't hurt none neither. Now shut up and be quiet before they go hearin' us."  
"Don't we need a plan?"  
"You leave that to me this time."

Bobby let out a small noise as he felt a vice like grip on his shoulder. He had nearly forgotten what the Reverend's hands were like, able to punch through bone and concrete alike.  
"Soon as the sun peaks a little more we go in, we end it quick and clean, got it? You screw around son, you die."  
Bobby had half a mind to ask if it was the vampires or the Reverend that would kill him. He pondered this for awhile as the sun came into clear view and almost winced to himself as he glanced at the Reverend.  
"Follow me, stay close and you might see your next case."  
He nodded, drawing his gun as James crept around the corner then stopped, turning to look around at Bobby pointedly.  
"You some kinda idiot? You gonna go in there and shoot one of them thangs and wake up the whole damn nest?"  
Bobby cringed and holstered his gun, putting his hand up in defeat.  
"Good... Stake," The Reverend said, smoothly pulling one from up his sleeve.  
Blinking several times in surprise Bobby took it with reserve.  
"Thanks."  
"Don't mention it, in fact, don't mention anythin', just be quiet."  
Drawing a sharp breath he raised the stake in his hand defensively as he followed James through the door, amazed at how easily the man slipped the lock, and alarmed as he was amazed that he simply walked in like he owned the place.  
Bobby stood rooted to the spot, watching the Reverend look around and take in the situation. From what Bobby could tell there seemed to be at least twenty vampires in the nest, a thought that made his stomach flip. To think he had nearly walked in alone. He stood there feeling stupid as he watched the Reverend go to work almost passively, staking hearts and removing heads. A glance told him he should be doing the same.  
Things were going fine, at least as fine as they could go in Bobby's eyes, until he tripped. The noise made the Reverend jolt and freeze, looking around in alarm as several vampires stirred.  
"Fuck..." James whispered.  
An unearthly shriek made Bobby freeze for a moment, just long enough for him to watch a vampire launch itself halfway across the room only to be thrown backwards by gunfire. What happened next Bobby was a little unclear on, but he watched in absolute fascination as the Reverend fluidly dispatched the entire nest. As the building fell quiet Bobby found himself shaking and fevered, but it was not in terror of the vampires.  
He swallowed hard as he suddenly found the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead and a pair of blood red eyes inches from his own.  
"Dumb. Fucking. Move."  
The Reverend dropped the gun and sighed, looking disgruntled.  
"Don't do it again. You won't live."  
Bobby nodded.  
"It was an accident," He said hoarsely.  
"There are no room for accidents in huntin', Bobby, you screw up, you die. How many times do I gotta say that?" The Reverend asked unhappily, as if dealing with a distressing child.  
Bobby opened his mouth to say something smart before he closed it again, thinking about what he had just seen the Reverend do.  
"Is it just you?" James asked suddenly, eyeing him.  
"Just me what?"  
"Obviously, it must be, even the dumbest idiot would think to take someone with them when enterin' a vamp nest..." He sighed, rubbing his brows tiredly, "I guess that's it then..."  
"What's it?" Bobby asked, irked, finding his voice.  
"There are things I should teach you... Things you should know about this life. You and I are goin' huntin', and don't you object neither. Believe it or not for as much as you shit yourself thinkin' I'm gonna kill you I'd rather see you alive..." The Reverend replied reproachfully, rocking on his feet, "Besides, I ain't got nothin' better to do."  
Bobby swallowed, again thinking of what he had just witnessed.  
"I don't rightly know what to say... Thanks..."

  
The next day Bobby found himself party to an awkward silence as he drove down the highway, the Reverend seated beside him lost in thought. Bobby stole the occassional glance, he couldn't help it, the questions in his mind endless, none of which his nerves would allow him to ask.  
"You should keep your eyes on the road," James said suddenly, "I ain't that gorgeous."  
"Sorry."  
"You're uncomfortable... Tell me, how did it end?"  
Thankful for a chance to end the silence Bobby launched into his story, of what had happened after they had left the Reverend's, about Rosie, Mel, Syd, his past, his wife and the demon. It fell out and the Reverend listened silently, sombrely.  
"I see... I'm sorry, Bobby, you never should have been thrust into that life or this one."  
A question fell from his mouth before he could even think about it, wondering if the Reverend really did see.  
"Have you ever been in love? Did somethin' happen? Is that why you do this?"  
He glanced to the side and did a brief double take, finding the Reverend's eyes locked on him, a red flush to the man's ghostly skin.  
"Fuck you, Bobby. Just drive."  
Bobby winced.  
"Sorry, didn't mean to start nothin'. Just tryin' to make conversation and understand you somewhat."  
"Yes, well... Don't."  
Bobby nodded.  
"Okay, you got it."  
The silence that fell around them hung heavier than before, tinged with friction. Bobby tried to keep his eyes on the road, he tried to fight the urge to look at the Reverend, but eventually he lost. What he saw nearly made him swerve. Instead he pulled to a stop, feeling a lump in his throat as he looked at the red eyes glistening with tears and the scarred white hands clenched around the material of his jacket.  
"I'm sorry," Bobby said quietly, honestly meaning it, startled.  
"Just drive," came the hollow reply, before a bitter smile crossed his pale lips, "My story is for another time, if ever."  
Bobby nodded again.  
"Do you need anythin'?" He asked, as he pulled back onto the road.  
The Reverend was quiet before he shook his white head.

  
Bobby eventually learned he was going to have to accept the tense silence in the car as they went. The Reverend would sometimes tell him which road or direction to go in but otherwise the man didn't speak and his eyes barely ever seemed to be focused on his surroundings.  
It wasn't until they drove into a town the next state over that he snapped out of his reverie, looking alert and puzzled.  
"Stop somewhere," he instructed sharply.  
Bobby didn't need telling twice. He picked the first diner he saw, starving.  
"This town seems totally empty..."  
The Reverend didn't reply, instead he got out of the car, looking around.  
"Bobby, today is the first of May..."  
"Yeah, what's that have to do with anythin'?"  
"Well, I've been here before... These people are obsessed, there must've been three to four hundred people partyin' and carryin' on..."  
"So where are they?"  
"That's just it, Bobby.... This town is fuckin' empty... There ain't a soul here..."  
"Surely there's got to be somebody, let's look around. I bet-"  
"Bobby..." The Reverend began, looking at him levelly, "There. Is. Nobody."  
"How do you know?"  
"Because I can't sense anyone..."  
Bobby was about to ask what that meant when he froze mid-action, as though put on pause. Wearily the Reverend looked around, spotting a new figure standing halfway down the street, a young red haired man who waved smugly.  
"... Gabriel," James said dryly, "Should have guessed."  
"Famine! Been wandering around in your own form, huh?"  
"I prefer not to take a human vessel, Gabriel, they're messy and frankly die too easily..."  
"Is this young Bobby? The prophecy didn't say anything about him being so... Scrawny."  
James glanced at Bobby before locking eyes with Gabriel.  
"Angel or not you touch him and I will break every fuckin' bone in your body."  
"Oh, I'm terrified..."  
The grin that split the Reverend's face was full of a haunting malice.  
"And I'll fuckin' bind them that way."  
Gabriel visibly paled and put up his hands.  
"Look man, I just wanted to see what it was all about, I was just curious, I'm moving along..."  
"Good. Move."  
Without another word Gabriel was gone and the sudden influx of humanity around him made James wince as Gabriel put everyone back to normal.  
"What in the hell?" Bobby asked, looking around, "Where did they all come from? What's goin' on?"  
"It's not your concern, get in the car and drive."  
"But don't you want to figure out-"  
"Bobby, you don't stand a snowball's chance in Hell right now, now get in the car and drive."  
Grumbling Bobby did as he was told and wasn't surprised to find the Reverend refusing to even speak much less answer any of his questions. The only words he spoke after awhile were short, offhand directions.

Still silently fuming Bobby was less than impressed at the rough forest road and the less than savory terrain.  
"Where the hell are we goin', anyhow?"  
"You will see."  
"Man, you can't keep doin' this to me, you gotta tell me somethin' once in awhile."  
The Reverend eyed Bobby sideways, his expression thin and Bobby suddenly reminded himself that he was lipping off to the wrong person.  
"Here's an idea... We start practicin' how you can keep your trap shut."  
"You know, I didn't ask you to start babysittin' me like this, I didn't even ask you where the hell we were goin' until now, I've been pretty damn open to this whole cotton pickin' thing and I ain't even questioned why you've decided to even take an interest so excuse me to hell for havin' some questions, Reverend."  
Bobby let out a frustrated noise and glanced at the Reverend before doing another double take, the man was sitting there smiling at him.  
"What in the hell is your problem, anyhow?"  
"Well, Bobby, at the moment it's you. Now, are you gonna drive or am I gonna have to kick you out of the front seat, son?"  
"Alright, that's it..."  
Bobby stopped suddenly in the middle of the road and got out of the car, slamming the door as he did so. He heard the Reverend sigh as he started walking, giving no thought to his belongings, only his irritation. He didn't even turn around as he heard the Reverend get out and start following him idly.  
"You can run all you like," the Reverend drawled, his voice climbing right up Bobby's spine, "I'm going to follow you."  
Bobby stopped abruptly, the insults brewing and swimming in his head.  
"And why are you gonna do that?"  
"I told you, Bobby, I'd like to see you stay alive, but unfortunately your behavior is less than promisin'."  
"I've been stayin' alive just fine until you showed up but I might blow my own damn brains out at this rate."  
"That is not my intention," The Reverend replied, sounding unhappy.  
Bobby turned around to find him standing a few feet behind, a concerned expression on his gaunt face.  
"You gotta see it from my point of view, Reverend, you just pop outta nowhere when you're supposed to be dead, you won't answer any of my questions, you start takin' control of my life just like that, and now you're stalkin' me all creepy like down the road."  
The Reverend looked away as he considered this, gazing up at the trees.  
"Frankly, there are things in this forest that could eat you," He replied, his voice taking on a familiar singsong rhythm that had haunted Bobby for years.  
"One of them bein' you?" Bobby sniped, not expecting a response.  
"Well, actually, yes."  
Bobby blinked several times, wondering how he had stuck both of his feet in.  
"But I'm not gonna eat you, Bobby..." The Reverend sighed, looking tired, "Look, further up the road is a safehouse, we can spend a few days there. I'll teach you how to be a proper hunter, and then I'll leave you alone, alright? No fuss no muss."  
"What if I don't agree? What if I don't want that?" Bobby asked, more confident than he felt.  
The Reverend's expression twisted in discomfort and Bobby was unnerved to see a flash of teeth that looked like they could tear his throat out at any given moment.  
"Well then, I guess I'll be leavin' you alone to fend for yourself... Don't go stickin' your nose where it don't belong, alright? There are things out there you ain't never thought of that won't think twice about havin' you as a light snack. Don't go rushin' into situations neither like ya' did with them vamps, that was the most boneheaded thing I ever did see... What else? Oh, again, always know what n' who you're dealin' with, just 'cause someone might seem like a human to you doesn't mean they is, don't trust anybody, Bobby, no..."  
The Reverend shook his white head, rocking on his feet, and Bobby stood there feeling his skin crawl, mind scrambling for what to do.  
"Sorry for the concern, son... If ya need somethin'-"  
"Wait a second, now, just, hold on..." Bobby said, finding his hands up and shaking, "I didn't say I didn't want your help I said 'what if?'"  
The red eyes narrowed slightly in an impatient frown.  
"Well which is it, hmm?"  
Bobby sighed, dropping his hands, wondering if he would live to regret this.  
"Alright, ya old codger, which way is the safe house?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having too much fun with this.

Bobby tried his best to sleep but even with the oddly welcoming cot he had been assigned it was difficult between the sounds of the woods and the knowledge he was sharing a cabin with a homicidal priest. He wracked his brain, wondering how he had ever felt safe as a boy in the Reverend's home. He wandered over that part of his past, remembering the days he had spent confined to bed with his jaw wired shut, half drugged but still full of the confidence of any malcontent young teen. The Reverend would occasionally pay him a visit, half preaching half rambling, rarely sharing any stories and usually reproachful in manner. Mel would come in shaking his head after, amused, commenting on how determined the Reverend was with him. The memory left a question that often pried itself into his mind.  
"Hey, you awake?" Bobby asked.  
"Hmmm?"  
Bobby half sat up and looked across the room to where the Reverend was, curled up like some feral cat infront of the fire.  
"Why'd you try so hard?"  
The red eyes flicked open in a frown.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Preachin' at me, back at the house. I mean, I know I was just a dumb kid, but you sure tried everything from honey to hellfire."  
A slight curve of the Reverend's lips sent a suppressed shiver up Bobby's spine.  
"Well son, I reckoned if you were gonna be in the Apocalypse the least I could do would be to make sure ya got in with the winnin' side."  
Bobby fell dumb, wrestling with what to say. His first thought was to assume the Reverend was entirely insane, his second thought sparked a small doubt for a change.  
"Well... Thanks, I think."  
James shrugged.  
"Don't thank me, not yet."

The next morning Bobby found himself looking around the cabin with curiosity, it was small but not uncomfortable, filled with overflowing bookshelves and all sorts of objects from jars of holy water to an array of weapons, some he had never seen before. The walls and windows were painted with blood in a variety of symbols while a large gothic crucifix hung over the fireplace in a foreboding manner.  
He sat stiffy at the table while the Reverend dug around the bookshelves, pulling out a selection of volumes that he stacked haphazardly infront of Bobby.  
"Listen..." Bobby began, "If you're going to tell me I should start with the Bible, I've already read it."  
"Cover to cover?" The Reverend mused without looking up.  
"Yeah, cover to cover."  
"Good, that saves us some time. Now, you go through these while I go and locate us some supplies... Don't get into nothin'... And don't get any bright ideas... I'd hate to see the mess."  
"Does supplies include food?" Bobby grumbled.  
The Reverend gave him a small, friendly smile.  
"Of course."  
"You can't tell me you're not starving."  
James shrugged.  
"I'm always hungry, it's something one learns to ignore."  
"Is that a hunter thing?"  
"Sometimes, but it's mostly a me thing. Now start readin', I can't do anythin' with you if you don't know the background of anythin'."  
Bobby nodded dully and cracked open the closest book as the Reverend left, locking the door behind him.

An hour and a half later Bobby was starting to feel his eyes glaze over as his stomach led his mind astray. Rising from the chair and stretching he had half a mind to unlock the door and wander outside when a knock made him pause.  
"Hey you asshole, open up!" came the a man's voice from the other side, "I got somethin' that I need you to, well... Guess I can't say that now, can I?"  
"Are you looking for the Reverend?" Bobby asked through the door, reaching for his gun.  
"The what? Who is this? Who are you? Who the-"  
"No, no, it's quite alright," came another voice, more refined than the first, "If you remember the Reverend is a tag he has been using for quite some time..."  
"How original. Look kid, we need to speak to him-"  
"-He's my brother," cut in the other voice, "And what we have to say is important."  
Bobby started, the idea of the Reverend having a brother was a jarring thought and hastily his mind scrambled, wondering what the man looked like.  
A chirrup made his head jerk around, spotting a grasshopper sitting on the table giving him the feeling he was being eyed closely.  
"How in the hell...?" Bobby wondered outloud.  
The grasshopper made the noise a few more times, as if to reply.  
"Look," came the Reverend's brother's voice, "It really is very crucial that- Ah!"  
A deafening sound crashed down around the cabin, millions of chirrups, and Bobby's eyes nearly fell out of his head as he watched the air grow thick with insects before just as suddenly they were gone, the air going painfully silent until being broken by an irritated voice.  
"What in the hell are you two idiots doing here?" came the Reverend's sharp tones from further away.  
"Always lovely to see you too-"  
"Cut the crap. What do you want?"  
"Did you see the papers while you were in town? That's where you just were, were you not?"  
"As a matter of fact, I did, I was planning on taking the young one-"  
"-Then you know what is happening... Do you-"  
"No, I don't think there's any chance of that now will you please just get the hell off my property?"  
"Warm family reunion," Muttered the other voice, "Look, Worms-For-Brains, we're only trying to help, I don't see why-"  
"-Look, you son of a bitch, I will have you for dinner..." The Reverend growled.  
"Great! What are we having?"  
"Dumb ass," muttered the Reverend's brother, "We'll just be going..."  
"Good."  
Bobby nearly fell through the door as the Reverend jerked it open swiftly.  
"What in the hell, son?"  
"Sorry," Bobby said sheepishly, looking up and noticing the grasshopper was gone, "Hey... Where did it go?"  
"Where did what go? Now that those two idiots are gone come give me a hand."  
"I didn't know you have a brother."  
"I don't," The Reverend replied coldly.  
"Okay, sorry, I-"  
James stopped abruptly, almost causing Bobby to walk into him.  
"Drop it."  
Bobby swallowed as the Reverend opened the trunk of the car a little more forcefully than Bobby would have expected, causing him to fall quiet as he helped haul in supplies.  
The Reverend stopped and looked him up and down once, causing the hair on the back of Bobby's neck and arms to stand straight up. Without a word he began prepping the kitchen for food.  
"Should I help?" Bobby wondered outloud.  
"Stay put, I don't need you burnin' down the damn cabin while you're at it."  
Bobby put up his hands, not even considering arguing. His stomach growled loudly as he smelled meat being prepped and his mind flashed back to the Reverend's house, surprised as he realized he missed the man's cooking.  
To his relief, the Reverend's temper eased as he went, his movements becoming softer, quieter, and eventually he sighed, looking tired.  
"You could at least set the table," He muttered.  
Bobby had to smile.  
"Where are the plates?"

"What have you learned about reapers, Bobby?" The Reverend asked after dinner, leaning back in the chair and folding his hands.  
"You mean like the grim reaper?" Bobby asked, surprised.  
The Reverend's lips thinned in irritation.  
"No... And yes... Not Death himself..." He paused, lost in thought for a moment before his eyes flicked back to Bobby's face, "Reapers are an entirely different class of angels-"  
"Wait, angels?"  
James rolled his eyes.  
"I thought you said you had been readin', try to keep up, son! Reapers exist to escort the souls of the dead to their restin' place... Now I won't get into no details right now, your head would probably explode," he grumbled, "Wouldn't matter none anyway... Look, sometimes some reapers go rogue, cause all kinds of weird shit... Some of 'em are real nasty like... Make your everyday vamps and demons look like borderline roadkill... Few miles south of here there ain't been any deaths for nearly a year..."  
"I'm guessing they're not just a lucky bunch..."  
"No, plenty of death related accidents and illnesses, just nobody's _died._ Now, I think you can imagine what kinda problem that is."  
"So what do we do? Make an appointment with Death and hope he puts them in line?"  
The smile that curved the Reverend's face was colder than any Bobby had ever seen.  
"Son, if I could, I would, but I can't. We take care of this ourselves."  
"So how do you down a reaper?"  
"Well, first, you have to make sure you don't get killed tryin'. Most reapers ain't strong enough to take you without grabbin' you, which mind you was very deliberate just for things like this. Problem is, can't risk it, we don't have any way of knownin' if this one is or not, or even how many there is until we get in there, or what exactly is goin' on for that matter."  
"But how do we kill it?"  
The smile vanished from the Reverend's face, his expression going distant.  
"Reverend?"  
His gaze refocused on Bobby seriously.  
"You let me worry about that."  
"But what do I do in the future if-"  
The half wild look on the Reverend's face silenced him immediately.  
"You do not play with Death, Bobby..." He said softly, "There are ways you can trap a reaper, which I will teach you, there are ways you can handle them, there are ways you can, I suppose in your words, kill them, but don't you _ever_ fuck with Death."  
Bobby swallowed and found himself instinctively leaning backwards and hesitant to meet the Reverend's eyes. A question fell out of his mouth before he could help himself.  
"Do you know him? Death, I mean..."  
A silence loud enough to cause his ears to ring fell on the cabin almost immediately, it seemed that even the fire and the wilderness hushed. The Reverend looked away, his expression distant, almost sad.  
"Yes... Yes, I do..."  
"What's he like?"  
"Enough questions," James decided, abruptly standing and picking up their plates, "I will handle this, you pack what I tell you to."  
Bobby blinked, knowing better than to ask twice as the Reverend fell to muttering prayers underneath his breath. He recalled vividly Mel's warnings, that the Reverend had asked for the patience not to kill him for his brashness. James' mutterings broke only to give him a verbal list of supplies and Bobby packed them without a word.


	3. Chapter 3

"This place feels weird," Bobby said as they got out of the car the next day, "Like, shouldn't it be warmer?"  
The Reverend nodded, glancing around the seemingly normal street.  
"How many people are supposed to be dead here?"  
"Roughly a hundred," James replied, shrugging, "Which I'm guessin' that means we may have multiple problems."  
"We fix this, do they all die at once?"  
"That isn't my decision, some may, perhaps none... Reapers try not to make a fuss, son, it disturbs the natural balance even more."  
"So where do you want to start?"  
"Follow the cold."  
"Isn't that a ghost trait?"  
The Reverend smiled and nodded, more to himself than to Bobby.  
"Yes, it is... But have you ever heard of 'the icy touch of death'? Many reapers drop the temperatures around them, the more reapers there are, the colder it is."  
Bobby frowned, looking at his breath in the air.  
"How many reapers are we talking then?"  
"Too many."  
Without another word the Reverend started down the sidewalk and Bobby followed hastily, wishing he had brought warmer gear. Rubbing his hands together to keep warm he did his best to focus on his surroundings, noting the stares they were attracting. It was not the first time he had been in public with the Reverend, the same thing had happened when he was still a teen, treading on Mel and James' heels around the city. The man did not seem to notice however, it didn't look to Bobby like he paid any attention to the world around him at all, he merely continued to walk in the direction of the increasingly frigid air.  
It was with that thought Bobby started to notice the signs on shops and businesses referencing the weather, things about hot drinks, global warming, global freezing, warm clothes, winter supplies, even signs claiming the anomaly as a tourist attraction.  
"They don't think it's weird at all?" Bobby wondered outloud.  
"You'd be surprised what humans will just readily accept," James replied, amused, "They'll look for any explanation other than the one right infront of 'em."  
"I guess..."  
The Reverend stopped at the end of someone's walk, gazing towards the doorway of a rich looking two story house, the windows completely frosted over.  
"That should be an obvious explanation," Bobby mused.  
"You would think," James agreed, starting to stroll towards the house.  
He paused.  
"Bobby?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Don't get your ass killed."  
With that the Reverend crossed the rest of the distance and rapped on the front door.  
"You've got to be batshit crazy..." Bobby muttered.  
James ignored him, rocking on his feet like a man waiting on a date.  
"Maybe there's nobody home," Bobby suggested.  
The Reverend glanced back at him with raised eyebrows before considering the door.  
"I guess that's fine..." He decided, taking a card from his jacket.  
"You're going to break into someone's house in the middle of broad daylight!?" Bobby hissed.  
James squinted at him, as though trying to decide why this was a bad idea.  
"I guess that's not the human thing to do," he said finally.  
"That's not the anything thing to do! You'll get us arrested, or worse!"  
The Reverend sighed, dropping his arms, exasperated.  
"Fine, we'll have it your way, let's go find a hotel and come back at night."  
"Good, maybe we can do some local research."  
"'Maybe we can do some local research,'" James sniped, "I guess."

Bobby looked around the hotel with quiet appreciation, it had been some time since he had stayed in a nice place. Although it was by no means expensive the place was cozy and clean looking, complete with a dining and entertainment area. He waited in silence as the Reverend took care of their fees, relishing the idea of a good night's sleep.  
"You smell awful," came a familiar voice from the door.  
"This wouldn't have happened if you had just listened to me," fussed another, "I told you it was sick."  
Bobby spun around, recognizing the voices as belonging to the two men that had been outside the cabin.  
"I just thought it would be funny to watch you get puked on, again."  
"You know, one of these days I'm going to figure out how to infect you with the Croatoan virus, then who will have the last laugh?"  
"Me, because once I'm a flesh eating demon zombie I'm ripping your face off."  
The Reverend let out a barely audible groan and followed Bobby's gaze as he turned around. Two men stood in the doorway, one roughly the Reverend's height, dark hair, dark suit, and another considerably taller, gangly, and covered in vomit.  
"Look, I'll do you a solid, I'll pay for our room," The dark haired one offered.  
"That's more than I can say for the dog," The other muttered, rubbing his face, "That's mighty wide of you..."  
"What can I say? I'm a broad guy. Heeeey... Look who it is..."  
"James! Bobby!"  
The Reverend's expression soured and he set a hand on Bobby's shoulder, the grip uncomfortably tight.  
"What are you two doing here?"  
"You wound me," The taller man fussed, "Such a cold reception."  
"I'd tell you to bite me, but, well, you know..."  
"We just thought we would come and do some casual looking around," the dark haired man cut in, gesturing with a smile, "You never know what an extra pair of eyes might spot."  
"Depends on how long you plan to keep them," The Reverend replied.  
"You're more feisty than ever..."  
"Look, James, as your brother I implore you-"  
"-You and I are done here... What is it you are going by these days?"  
"Doctor John Green," The taller man replied.  
"Rodger," The dark haired man cut in, "Not that anyone cares..."  
"Rodger... Do me a favor... Take Bobby while John and I here have a chat..."  
Rodger held up his hands helplessly.  
"Fine. Bobby, was it? How about an ice cream cone?"  
"I'm not five," Bobby said dryly as the Reverend finally let go of his shoulder.  
"Really? How old are you? Nevermind, a beer then."  
"Now you're talking."  
"Good, let's go."  
Bobby followed Rodger outside, taking a cautious glance back to see the Reverend approaching John with an unfriendly expression.  
"Is that safe?"  
"Is what safe? Probably not."  
"What's up with those two anyway?"  
Rodger shrugged, looking around the street for the nearest bar.  
"We all lost someone very important to us a long, long time ago... James could never forgive us or the situation..."  
"So you've known him a long time... Has he always been... You know?" Bobby made a gesture to indicate crazy.  
"Three shits to the wind?"  
"I think the word you are looking for is 'sheets,'" Bobby replied, following Rodger into a dimly lit bar.  
"Maybe. I like my version better... Take a seat, kid."  
Bobby made a face but sat down across from Rodger who motioned and called out for two beers. He sighed and sat back.  
"Yeah... James has always been a little... Different..." Rodger grinned, amused, "I guess you could call him the dark horse of the family."  
"So you're all related?"  
"No, John is James' brother, I'm attached to John."  
Bobby starred in surprise, taking mental note of the gold ring around Rodger's finger, "Oh."  
"You seem shocked, I don't know, are you shocked? Humans... Listen kid, James is a good man, there is nobody, even as pissed at me as he is, that I would rather have my back."  
"Mel said he's killed people for insults alone..."  
"Who the hell is Mel? I'd like to meet him... James may be a bit of a loose canon but c'mon man... For an insult? You can trust him..."  
"The Reverend once told me he didn't trust anyone but God," Bobby said with amusement.  
Rodger looked thoughtful.  
"That's a bit of a lie... I can think of one person James would trust without another thought... Look, you're in good hands, promise. Why don't you tell me how you two met?"  
Bobby nodded and found himself telling Rodger how Mel had purchased weaponry from someone he claimed was one of the best gunsmiths on the planet, the Reverend, how they met at a hotel, their stay much later at the Reverend's house, but before he could decide whether or not to share the Reverend's not-so-untimely death the door opened and John staggered in, holding a handkerchief over his bleeding nose, yet in fresh clothes and free of vomit.  
"As I told you, good hands," Rodger insisted.  
"Yeah, the ones that can break anything..." Bobby muttered.  
"What was that?" John asked, sitting down, "Damn it..."  
"Pissed him off more, did you?" Rodger chuckled.  
"Screw you. Bobby, right? You better listen to him because I am sick of this."  
Rodger snickered and and John hit his arm.  
"Oww! Geez!"  
"I'm also going to give you a warning... Don't you dare put that bastard in any danger... You will die horribly, unpleasantly, slowly, with a great mess left behind..." John warned, leaning in far too closely for Bobby's comfort. Bobby nodded hastily and John leaned back, eyeing him from the side, "He's waiting for you back at the hotel," He said stiffly.  
Bobby swallowed.  
"Sounds great. I should go then..."  
"Just a second. We didn't say you could leave," John replied, "We want in, but James isn't going to let us, so here's the deal, we'll do some asking and snooping around, you can leave that part to us, if we find anything, we'll tell you, you pass it along... Maybe that will make him less inclined to break other parts of my body. We'll be in room 103."  
"That's fair," Bobby agreed, wondering what he was getting himself into.  
"Good. Get."  
"Don't be hard on the kid, John. It was fun, Bobby. Later."  
Bobby took his leave quickly, trying to piece together the situation, yet on stopping outside of the hotel he paused thinking of John's broken nose. He had seen traces of the Reverend's temper before and was not relishing the idea of being in the same room with it. He knocked gently, trying to keep his hand steady.  
The door opened quietly and the Reverend fixed him with a displeased expression. Bobby tried not to make his stare obvious, noting the rosary in the Reverend's hand. A set of rings hung from the beads, one on either side of the cross, the first set with a shiny black stone, onyx, he thought, the second with what looked to him like mother of pearl.  
The Reverend stepped away from the door and sat down on the edge of one of the beds wordlessly, looking at nothing. Bobby cautiously sat down on the other trying to think of something to break the heavy silence with.  
"I'm sorry," James said finally, not looking up.  
"For what?" Bobby asked, genuinely confused.  
He shrugged and smiled tightly.  
"This should remain business, not a personal issue, yet I let it become one."  
"Sounds like you didn't really have a choice... Can I ask you... Maybe that's not a good thing to ask..."  
"Ask away, Bobby."  
"You lot keep saying 'humans' like you're something else. You said you were, you should be dead... Now considering I'm in the business of hunting monsters, what are you, exactly?"  
The Reverend's eyes flickered to Bobby's face dangerously.  
"'Hunting monsters?'"  
"Now, I don't mean it like that," Bobby said quickly, putting his hands up, his heart slamming uncomfortably in his chest.  
The Reverend tilted his head, considering how to take this. His expression slipped to one of bitterness as he looked away.  
"A monster, clearly," He replied quietly, "Get some sleep, Bobby, we don't know what we're up against tonight."  
"Now hold on here, I didn't say you were..."  
"Enough."  
"What about research?"  
"I have it covered this time, I will show you before we go. Right now I'm stepping out."  
Bobby swallowed, feeling sick as he watched the Reverend leave, wondering where they stood now.

A sharp noise jarred Bobby from his nap a few hours later, causing him to sit up straight with his gun in hand. The Reverend fixed him with a scathing look from the table where he stood with a stack of books, papers, and an array of supplies.  
"Wake. Sit."  
Bobby clambered out of bed and hurriedly sat in the chair, feeling the Reverend's eyes burning through him from above.  
"We talked about some of this on the way here, how to trap a reaper, how to stall them, we even talked a bit about different types... There is only a few ways to kill a reaper."  
"What happens when you kill a reaper?"  
"That information is not for you right now. If you absolutely must you need a special blade, or Death's scythe, otherwise it's impossible for a human to do so. I'm going to be frank with you, I don't trust you not to go in there half cocked and start killing innocents just because they're not the same species as you, so to keep you from dying I've got other plans. Now you can't banish a reaper the same way you can an angel, but it can be done and I want you to get this right because if you do we can make this go a whole hell of a lot quicker..."

"Reverend?" Bobby began sheepishly as they walked down the street.  
"Hmm?"  
"I'm sorry about earlier," He offered.  
The Reverend stopped dead in his tracks, otherwise rooted still.  
"You're a shit liar, Bobby," James replied, his voice colder than the air around them, "Even now if I so much as pretended to turn on you there would be only two possible outcomes, you'd either shit yourself stupid or you'd gut me like a fish. Your heart rate sounds like a fucking marathoner. What's utter crap is that it's not even the fact I'm not human that upsets you nearly as much as the traits that are in fact human that you just can't reconcile... Anything that don't look like you or act like you should, in your hunter philosophy, go straight to Hell, am I right? Well son, it doesn't work like that... Something hunters never seem to grasp. Now if you're done wallowing in fear can we get this over with? To be honest, I'm quite partial to reapers, I'd like to save them, they make far better company."  
Bobby swallowed and almost choked, the lump in his throat the side of a baseball. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as the Reverend started walking again, Bobby's heart sinking gloomily with every step.  
"What was that you called me back at the house..." James mused thoughtfully.  
"I don't remember calling you anything, but I was pretty messed up, if I did, I apologize," Bobby managed to say.  
"Hmm... Thought it, rather... It involved a lot of swears if I'm not mistaken, some choice colourful words... Now, I reckon, the Lord says to be forgiving and that's what I strive for, and in my line of work that can be a rough task, and I forgive you for being scared, I do, but son, when the end comes, make sure your soul isn't the heavier weight."  
The Reverend stopped outside the mansion again, frowning at the blue light emanating from the windows. He drew the card from his jacket and set off up the walk.  
"Reverend, wait!" Bobby hissed, grabbing his wrist.  
James froze and his entire body tensed, coiled like a spring. Bobby stood there in shock at his own boldness, trying not to notice the way his fingers overlapped.  
"Do you mind letting go of me?"  
"If it's a trap?"  
"Thought of that, thanks."  
Bobby let go and the Reverend straightened his clothes looking disgruntled. Without another word he slipped the lock and pulled open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberties with this, just a bit... I also liked the idea of Pestilence and War still having the same looks, which I'll get into later. I'm trying to give some background details for Another Day In Paradise as I go, I know the work is kind of obscure and I don't want to make it confusing. It doesn't have quite the flow I want it to, I'm a little rusty.
> 
> (I just finished season 10 of SPN!)


End file.
